


Pixel's Poetic Pairing.

by thenewnationalanthem (moxielovesshipping)



Series: 10+ Chapter fics [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Cute, Engineering, Fluff, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Loss, M/M, Married Couple, Mild Smut, Multi, Nightmares, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Poetic, Sadness, Sex, Short & Sweet, Terminal Illnesses, Voice Acting, widower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 10,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxielovesshipping/pseuds/thenewnationalanthem
Summary: Hey! This is kinda like my platonic pairing except...well the prompts aren't always gonna be platonic. So, sit back and relax! This will be updated when I get requests or prompts :)





	1. Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Warning***some of these may be sad or depressing to you, so don't read them if you hate to be sad. I will warn you before that happens with a ***SAD*** in the notes of the chapter :)
> 
> Chapter 1?
> 
> ***SAD***
> 
> Mark never changes.

He wakes up.

 

He stretches.

 

He looks next to him and smiles.

 

He runs his hand through soft hair, careful not to wake them, and gets out of bed.

 

He stares at himself in the mirror, expecting something to be different.

 

But it won't be, because Mark never changes.

 

He brushes his teeth, nice and pearly white like he loves them, rinsing with mouthwash till his mouth burns.

 

He washes his face carefully, wiping away any tiredness and sleep, he has to look good for the camera.

 

He looks at himself in the mirror again, disappointed by the way he appears.

 

Nothing changes. Mark never changes.

 

He comes back out of the bathroom and takes everything in.

 

He stares intently at the small body wrapped up in fluffy covers before him and sighs.

 

He wants to touch them again.

 

Feel them again.

 

But he won't. He will leave them be.

 

Instead, he takes careful, quiet steps down the stairs, scanning the living room for take out boxes and stray clothes.

 

He cleans them up, one by one, then moves to the kitchen.

 

He washes up the dishes, taking the time to think.

 

They look so peaceful, resting in their bed, and he wondered if he looked the same.

 

Probably, he thought.

 

Because Mark never changes.

 

He washes things until his hands wrinkle up, then he looks at them intently.

 

They feel different. Lighter. Translucent.

 

He wondered if they could even see him anymore.

 

He sighed and put the dishes out to dry, grabbing the trash bag and taking it outside.

 

He glances around, because things have changed here.

 

The darkness of dawn is gloomier.

 

The light doesn't rise as early.

 

The streets are quiet this time of morning, with only the sounds of stray animals and early risers as the soundtrack.

 

He inhales it all, feeling it flow through his body as he places the trash in the can.

 

He turns back around and goes back inside, back upstairs to see them still sleeping.

 

He sits in the computer desk next to their window, watching. Waiting.

 

He figured maybe something would change.

 

Maybe they'd wake up and realize he was still here.

 

Maybe they'd talk to him at least. Acknowledge his presence.

 

Instead they slept, and he could still see the dark bags under their eyes where they had been crying.

 

He wants to comfort them, but he knows he can't.

 

Somewhere, deep down, he knows this isn't real.

 

He watches them some more, studying their small tosses and turns, their little grunts and moans, their sighs and sniffles

 

He looks at his hands again and decides he should get dressed.

 

He slips on a t shirt and a pair of old jeans they had given to him, and runs a blank hand through his hair.

 

He knows it's time to go, before they wake up, but he always stays.

 

That will never change, because Mark never changes.

 

Instead, he moves closer, placing himself on the bed behind them and playing with their hair.

 

"I hope you forgive me..." He whispers, and they don't budge. "I miss you..."

 

He watches as they frown, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, and he realizes he can no longer see his hands.

 

Though buried in soft, plush hair, he can't see them if he pulled them out.

 

He sighs and looks up, trying not to let imaginary tears fall from his eyes.

 

With one last stroke of his hand on their face, he stands up and prepares to leave.

 

"Never forget I love you." He whispers, and he means it too.

 

3 years later and Mark hasn't changed.

 

He'd always keep his routine, even though death did them part.


	2. Misplaced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark wants to help him, but Jack doesn't know what it all means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do people still read my works? O.O

Jack stared at the window, tapping his feet on the ground idly as he watched the snow hit the ground during his first time in Boston.

 

He wanted to think about things, but not _those_ things.

 

He wanted to feel things, but not _those_ things.

 

No, those things felt a bit out of order.

 

Out of element.

 

_Misplaced._

 

He sighed and spun around, examining the hotel room, sizing up every inch, judging it like people judged him.

 

He didn't hate the spotlight, he didn't hate fame.

 

He didn't hate the fans or the conventions, or the work.

 

And he didn't hate _those_ things at all, but something was missing.

 

He didn't know what.

 

"You're thinking too much again."

 

"Yeah," He whispers, staring into the bright light of the hallway. "Yeah I am."

 

"Did you figure it out yet?"

 

Jack swallows, daring to make eye contact. "N...nope. No I haven't."

 

"Don't lie to me."

 

"I never lie." He squints his eyes, flinching  as the door shuts. "I feel like I'm missing something."

 

"Like what?"

 

Jack shrugged. "Purpose I guess."

 

"You guess?"

 

"I want more."

 

There was a soft, anxious silence between them as he tried to formulate a sentence.

 

He had wanted to leave _those_ things out because they couldn't belong there.

 

They were wrong.

 

It was a mistake.

 

He wouldn't say them.

 

"I...the snow. I want more snow."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because...I don't feel like this is _real._ I feel like...if I leave, it'll all be over."

 

"Will it? If the snow stops, right now, will this be over?"

 

He frowns up, shaking his head.

 

"I wish I knew." And _those_ thoughts, traitorous and tactile, took hold of him again.

 

"Get some sleep, Seàn. I'll see you in the morning."

 

He breathed out a laugh and nodded, looking down, away from the cause of all _those_ things.

 

"Of course. Good night." He blinked with wet eyes as he saw the door close before him, glancing only once into dark, brown eyes.

 

In his thoughts they seemed out of order.

 

Out of element in their black tint.

 

They felt a bit...

 

_Misplaced._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop requests in the comments and this will update more often!


	3. Rhythm and Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark just can't seem to shake the funk he's in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***SAD***
> 
> First person though right? What a strife. FUcking hell I should probably vlog instead. UHHHHHH
> 
> That is all. Love you guys as always. I got this prompt from someone on tumblr. Wanna follow me? I never use it, but its 8bitmoxieloves8bitryan, the origin of my archive name REVEALED.
> 
> Prompt: "Person A writes a letter to a friend of their talking about their breakup with Person B." 
> 
>  
> 
> Lol I fucked it up. I hope this is good. I put a twist on it though baby. Thanks anon. Presh.

Dear Mabel, 

 

I kinda wish things were better between her and I.

 

 _You_  and I, I guess.

 

Nonetheless, she wasn't someone I suppose I should associate myself with.

 

She was toxic.

 

She was evil.

 

She was the devil in black sneakers and pink curls. Soft skin and emerald eyes. Tutu dresses and ripped tights.

 

Maybe she was just a rebel.

 

I never asked her to leave. I guess I never _wanted_ her to.

 

He told me I was better off that she did, but what does he know?

 

I could complain all day, how I lost my muse, but it won't do me any good. She's already gone.

 

She moved out of country when I told her.

 

I must have sounded insane.

 

I spread her around like new music, rhythm and blues to the outskirts of town, all the way to the country and back again in time for supper.

 

She really was that, my muse, she brought out the best in me.

 

He says she didn't, but what does he know?

 

Sometimes we would argue.

 

Mostly my fault, though, if you ask me.

 

I had a habit of disappearing, deep into the darkness of the night, hiding behind the shadow of who I thought I was.

 

I wouldn't answer my phone when she called.

 

She didn't need to know my secret.

 

Another mistake I made, lying to her.

 

She gave sound to deaf ears, sight to blind eyes with her charm and wisdom, and what did I have to show for it?

 

I moped around, day in and day out, while she was worried about me.

 

It wouldn't _matter_ , is what he would have said. But what does he know anyways?

 

Sometimes I wake up, and I can still feel her body heat close to me.

 

Warming me from the inside out, like a fiery riff to a heavy song.

 

Her voice would, lull me to sleep, even on the nights when my terrors were the worst.

 

I think about it everyday, and this all could have been avoided.

 

I could have told her I was sick.

 

I could have, I guess, discussed it with him too. But he doesn't know anything.

 

He's too pure.

 

Too naive.

 

Too _selfish_ , sometimes.

 

But I would run to him when I got lost overnight, when I couldn't see through the fog anymore.

 

He welcomed me with open arms and great advice, in a cabin, near the woods.

 

He would help me cope with my darkest thoughts, my dreams, sometimes too.

 

I wouldn't quite say dreams but, rather, nightmares.

 

Sometimes I watch the cursor on my screen dance, and I imagine it's dancing to the sound of her cooking or cleaning, humming even.

 

Her presence is still here, but I can't see her.

 

Well, I can, through my computer screen, as I contemplate the words I could say to apologize to her.

 

He says I don't need to, that it's useless, that she's bad for me.

 

But he doesn't know anything. Not like she did.

 

She knew what I was going through, offered to help me, but pushed me away when it became too much.

 

I guess I could have told her in the first place, and maybe I wouldn't be sitting in this dorm alone, contemplating the lyrics to the music that plays in my head.

 

He tells me things will be alright, but even with the smallest distance between us, I can't believe it.

 

I'm all over the place.

 

Most of the time, when he's off to work at night, I sit here and think.

 

And think.

 

And think.

 

And think.

 

Until it becomes too much. 

 

And then, I just _stop_ thinking.

 

Occasionally I turn on the tape she got me for my 18th birthday, before she found out about me, and listen.

 

And listen.

 

And listen.

 

And listen.

 

Until everything else fades away, and my mind clears up again.

 

Then he comes back, smiling and bright, screaming at the top of his lungs about some new game he's gone and bought for us to play, and I feel like I can smile.

 

Sometimes I do, and sometimes, I even forget about her music, even as it serves as a soundtrack to my battles.

 

Maybe I was toxic too, for making her sick with my own issues.

 

He doesn't care though, unlike she did.

 

Because Jack doesn't know anything, and I'd love to keep it that way.

 

Until that changes, I'll let his music overcome hers, and dance to it anytime I get the chance.

 

I won't mess this up like I did with her. Or you, I guess.

 

I don't get the terrors anymore, in case you were wondering.

 

Thought maybe you'd like to know.

 

Anyways, thanks for listening, I hope to see you soon.

 

Warm Regards,

 

Mark.

 

 

 

 


	4. Clockwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***SAD***
> 
> Aye this wasnt a request I'm just depressed :) i love you guys though! Thanks for letting me project!

Jack was comfortable with Mark beside him, eyes closed as Mark hummed, playing some game he'd bought recently.

 

Lately, Jack had many things on his mind, but the last thing he wanted to do was worry Mark.

 

He had a habit of doing that sometimes, and he hated it.

 

"Did you get the part?"

 

"Huh? Oh, yeah I got it." He sighed, and Mark hummed in response. "Did you get yer internship?"

 

"Of course I did."

 

"That's good. What are you playing?"

 

"Ah...I don't remember?"

 

"You don't remember what game yer playin'?"

 

"Just grab the case and look at it Jack, you're distracting me!" Mark whined, and Jack sighed, rolling over and grabbing the case.

 

**Homeworld: 3D Real-Time Strategy**

 

"Is this a space game?"

 

"Of course it's a space game!" Mark chuckled, still focused on the television as Jack sat up and scooted closer to him.

 

"Tell me facts about space."

 

"What?"

 

"I want you to tell me facts about space." Jack smiled, and Mark paused the game and stared at him with a cautious look.

 

"What's going on Jack?"

 

"..."

 

"Jack? Please. You _hate_ when I tell you space facts. Something is going on. Tell me." Mark pleaded, and Jack couldn't say no to that.

 

"I think I might...be dying."

 

"You **WHAT**??"

 

"Listen, relax okay? I went to the doctor a couple weeks ago, and I got some illness and-"

 

" **YOU WEREN'T GONNA TELL ME**??"

 

"Because I knew you would react like this..." Jack whispered, and Mark sat the controller down and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

"How long."

 

Jack looked down and twiddled his fingers, anything to avoid _that_ question.

 

"Jack. How long."

 

"A month or so? At most." He mumured, and he heard Mark gasp.

 

"What was-what was I supposed to do if I just came home and you were _gone_?"

 

"I was going to write you a note-"

 

"A _note_??? Jack, I've known you since high school. All the shit we've been through together and you were going to leave me...with a _note_?"

 

"It sounded better in my head."

 

Mark sighed, sniffling lightly and glancing into Jack's eyes for some sort of humor.

 

He couldn't find any.

 

"But what if-"

 

"Nothin' can be done, Mark. I already exhausted that. Please jus'...don't make this a big deal."

 

"A big deal???" Mark screamed, standing up and pointing at Jack, "This _is_ a big deal! My best friend is dying and he was going to leave me a fucking _note."_

 

"Mark, calm down."

 

"I _am_ calm. You haven't _seen_ angry yet. Did they even test you twice??? Do they even know for sure you're sick??"

 

" _Yes_..." Jack says with a broken voice, and then reality hits him harder than ever. "Yeah Mark I'm...dyin'." He sobs, throwing his head angrily into Mark's pillows and screaming until he feels strong arms around him.

 

"Jack...I'll miss you so much..."

 

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" He screams through his tears, clawing onto Mark's shirt and latching himself to the fabric of his flannel. "I'm still here...I'll always be here."

 

"Jack..." Mark takes a shaky inhale, then decides against his sentence.

 

"I love you. I really do, but can we please jus'...act like everythin' is normal for today? I just...I want these days to count? I want you to remember me...like this." Jack sighs, wiping his eyes, and Mark nods without speaking a word.

 

"I love you. I promise I won't forget you."

 

"I know. Maybe I'll reincarnate as a dog or somethin' and you can adopt me." Jack smiled, and Mark laughed at that.

 

"Chica _does_ love new playmates."

 

"She'll have to fight me fer yer attention, space boy!" Jack yells, puffing out his chest until Mark pulls him into a tight hug on the bed.

 

"Nah, I'm sure we can figure out a pet wheel or something."

 

"I think you should jus' stick to yer games." Jack muses, and Mark nods, picking up his controller and trying his best to focus.

 


	5. Satellite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They can make this work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For AnonymousArchive.
> 
> I hope this is what you wanted x.x
> 
> Based on the song Satellites by All Time Low

"You know, I don't take people out bowling often." Mark smiles, watching as Jack sits back in the hard surfaced chair and sighs.

 

"What a blessin' fer them then. Jaysus, that was a workout!"

 

"Oh come on, you barely bowled! For the most part I was bowling for you."

 

"My hand was on the ball, it still counts!"

 

"Of course it does. Ready to head back to campus? I'm sure Dan is worried about you."

 

"Eh, he's probably over at Phil's dorm scoring more than I did tonight." Jack mumbled, forcing a laugh out of Mark. "But yeah, I guess we can go."

 

Mark stands up slowly, relishing in Jack's calm and serene aura, holding out his hand for Jack to grab onto.

 

Of course, Jack grabs onto it, linking their fingers together as they enter the cool, promising night.

 

There are very few things that Jack loves more than his career.

 

One of those things, of course, is Mark.

 

"Y'know, this is one of the very few dates ye've taken me on where you _didn't_ get distracted by work."

 

"I'm really sorry about that anyways. I need to stop putting it before you. I love my job but...I love you more."

 

Jack hummed but remained silent, content with holding hands and breathing, taking in the moments he held closest to him.

 

"Jack look! It's a star!"

 

Jack glanced up, blue eyes shimmering as he spots a sattelite in the air, faraway, but visible.

 

"It's a sattelite, Mark. Not a star." He pouted, squealing and giggling when he's pulled into Mark.

 

"So what. Make a wish." He grins, swaying Jack back in forth in an attempt of a finer dance, and Jack laughs.

 

"Okay, I wish...that I could come with you to L.A."

 

"Mmm," Mark says, kissing Jack softly on his lips, "and why is that?"

 

"Because, where else would I wanna be?"

 

"I can name like 300 places."

 

"Shut up, you." Jack smacks Mark's chest with his free hand, leaning in for another quick kiss. "Hey do you remember when we first met, and the first date you took me on was in your car?"

 

"It was a good car!"

 

"We played Cards Against Humanity and ate McDonald's."

 

"Your point?" Mark raised an eyebrow, and Jack shook his head.

 

"That was one of the best nights of my life because I spent it with you. Why can't every night be like that?"

 

"We were just kids back then, Jack. We didn't know anything like this would happen. I'm not forcing you to uproot because-"

 

"Woah woah, _forcin'_ me? I _asked_ for this. Please just...give it a shot."

 

Mark looked to his favorite eyes, cerulean blue with just a hint of white sparkle, and sighed.

 

"We will _see_ Jack. No promises."

 

"Really?"

 

Mark nodded. "Really."

 

"Hey, there's a real shootin'star! You make a wish now."

 

"Hm...I wish you would be alot less persuasive." Mark chuckled, kissing Jack's forehead as he scowled.

 

"Sure, waste yer wish!"

 

"I'd waste 16 thousand wishes on you, Jack."

 

Jack smiled brightly, pressing their foreheads together. "And I'd waste 17 thousand on you."

 

"Clever."

 

"Well you know, you don't take people out bowlin' often." Jack muses, linking their fingers together yet again.

 


	6. Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex is a cycle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKIN HELL.
> 
> But this is inspired by Sex by The 1975. Great song if you haven't heard it. :)
> 
> **SAD???**

 

Jack watches her get into the car, slow and gorgeous as he grips the steering wheel.

 

 

She turns to him, smiling beautifully as she leans in and kisses him, tentative and mindful of what he loves.

 

 

He grabs her by the neck, caressing the skin there as if he's mapping it with his palms.

 

 

She breaks away for air, and her hazel eyes are shimmering as she watches his blue eyes sparkle.

 

 

"I'm so happy to see you again."

 

 

"Me too. Where did you wanna go?" He asks, and she lays back in her seat, buckling up her seatbelt and sighing.

 

 

"Just drive." She says, turning to him with a curious look. "We can just talk right?"

 

 

"Yeah." He mumbles, tensing and relaxing his arms on the wheel. "Just talk."

 

 

They end up near the ocean that she loves so much,    lips locked together yet again, hands roaming over each other's bodies as gentle noises fill the air in the car.

 

 

Jack won't stop unless she says so.

 

 

He has nothing to lose.

 

 

She's got a boyfriend, anyways.

 

 

Her hand roams across his chest slowly as she nibbles at the skin on his neck.

 

 

"Your shirt looks better off like this..." She whispers, and he steadies his breathing as she licks her bite marks. "You're perfect Seàn..."

 

 

He stills at the use of his given name, trying to make sense of the words and respond. "Marceline..."

 

 

"Ssshh..." she says, taking to his lips again as his hands roam the expanse of her thighs, tan skin covered by a thin layer of denim. His eyes roam down to the smooth skin of her feet covered in black wedges, then back up to her loose shirt barely hanging on.

 

 

She's the photo of sin.

 

 

The epitome of disaster.

 

 

He wants her so bad.

 

 

"What do you want, Seàn?" She whispers, and he looks into her eyes again.

 

 

"You." He smiles, and she chuckles, kissing him yet again and climbing over into his lap, pulling the lever to let his seat back.

 

 

"Me?" She teases, letting jet hair with fading red tips hang over her face as her chest heaves. "Why?"

 

 

"Yer gorgeous." Is all he says, because he won't fall in love with her.

 

 

She's unobtainable.

 

 

She's got a boyfriend, anyways.

 

 

She smiles down at him, rolling her hips ever so slightly, and he knows he's lost this round tonight.

* * *

 

 

He sees her out sometimes, down by the ocean.

 

 

She looks so different, yet just as happy, with Mark.

 

 

She buries her feet in the sand as they run around on the beach, and you could never tell she was the same person he'd slept with the night before.

 

 

Sometimes Jack wonders if he could ever mean as much to Marceline as Mark did.

 

 

He stares at Mark sometimes, and sometimes he sees Marceline, and sometimes they make mistakes together too.

 

 

It's a vicious cycle, sex is.

 

 

He won't persecute either of them for using him.

 

 

It's all fun and games, noone gets hurt.

 

 

Mark's got a girlfriend, anyways.

 

 

"Hey Jack!" He hears Mark yell in his direction as he lays on his back in the sand, sunglasses on to block out the brightness. He doesn't have to look. He knows the deep brovado of that voice all too well.

 

 

"Hey." He gives a big smile, and he can smell Mark's body wash over Marcy's perfume.

 

 

"Where's Jacqueline?"

 

 

"She's at home." He speaks slowly, because it kills him every time.

 

 

"What? Awww I was excited to see her!" Marceline pouts, and he can hear the loud kiss Mark places on her cheek.

 

 

"Maybe next time. I think she might be sick."

 

 

"Ah. Okay, well, do you wanna come hang with us?" Mark asks, but its more of a beg, and Jack won't stop himself.

 

 

He sits up, glaring through dark sunglasses with a smug look as he watches Mark and Marceline study every move he makes, simultaneously trying to keep the other in the dark.

 

 

They know they can't ever have him though.

 

 

He's got a girlfriend, anyways.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was like "Jack wants Marcy but wont leave his gf, and Marcy wants Jack but wont leave her bf who pretty much wants Jack" type deal. Most confusing shit ive ever written.


	7. "Straight"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan sings a song for Jack and steals his heart.
> 
> Why would that matter to Mark?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm taking all your memories off the shelf. Cause I don't need you or anybody else." -Mayday Parade
> 
> ***SADDDDD***

 

Mark had seen the video, dozens of times before now.

 

 

The song resonated in his mind, his heart, but it wasn't close to him.

 

 

It bothered him, but he had no idea why.

 

 

It was terrible, seeing Ethan and Jack so in love, but not feeling that himself.

 

 

He wasn't in love with Jack.

 

 

He didn't want to be with Jack.

 

 

He wanted Jack to be happy.

 

 

But he didn't want Jack to be happy with Ethan.

 

 

When he really thought about it, it was jealousy.

 

 

Unbridled and undeserved rage towards Ethan for taking away what he felt was his.

 

 

Something he'd worked so hard to get, someone he'd dreamed of meeting.

 

 

It had been the same with Felix.

 

 

And Vernon.

 

 

He couldn't figure why Ethan would be different.

 

 

Sure, they were friends, but he liked Jack _more._

 

 

He wasn't sure why that bothered him.

 

 

He played the video again, letting the lyrics of "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" wash over him and make him green, like Jack's soft hair, with envy.

 

 

He didn't want to be with Jack.

 

 

He just didn't want Ethan to be with him either.

 

 

Or Felix.

 

 

Or Vernon.

 

 

It was _his_ ship the fans loved.

 

 

_His_ moments with Jack that were posessive and touchy in all respects that he'd watched compilations of.

 

 

_He_ and Jack people loved to write together, kissing and enjoying each others embraces.

 

 

He didn't mind, not at all, but sometimes he figured Jack did.

 

 

So why, on Earth, would he want to share all of that with Ethan?

 

 

Maybe Mark wasn't enough.

 

 

Maybe he should call him more.

 

 

Put him in his videos more.

 

 

Touch him more.

 

 

Mention him more in posts.

 

 

Be more affectionate.

 

 

But that would make people think he liked Jack, and he did...platonically.

 

 

He just continued to look through their photos together, Jack and Ethan's hair mixing together as they hug tightly, and he makes a realization.

 

 

No matter how much he wanted Jack all to himself, it would never happen.

 

 

Because Mark was painfully, woefully, _tragically,_ straight.

 

 

And not even losing his soulmate could change that.


	8. Unbearable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Losing a friend is hard to cope with. 
> 
> ***SAD***
> 
> ~Another note to Mabel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part to the other notefic i did :) enjoy the sadness!

Dear Mabel,

 

They never knew.

 

That's what people would say when you asked.

 

They never knew he was depressed.

 

They never knew he was insane.

 

They never knew he was lonely.

 

He wanted help.

 

Nobody would help him.

 

I'd like to say that I tried.

 

He would come to me, in the dark of the night, to my cabin in the woods instead of telling anyone he knew could help.

 

I had my own problems, demons I was dealing with by myself, but I don't think he cared.

 

I'd told him that I knew what he was going through, but he never figured I could relate.

 

I'm sure he'd told you before that I knew nothing, he thought I was naive, _selfish_ even for keeping him here.

 

He wouldn't come back to you, please believe that.

 

I never hated you, I didn't know you.

 

He felt so...distant from you.

 

Like you were at a disconnect.

 

We connected.

 

I loved him.

 

You didn't.

 

That, I won't deny.

 

I've seen photos of you, you're very pretty.

 

But beauty is skin deep, often times, and your insides were ugly.

 

At least, to me.

 

But I didn't hate you, nor did he.

 

You probably didn't know either, about his mental issues.

 

He was living in this delusion that something, someone, was out to get him.

 

He was constantly screaming at nights,tossing and turning in our bed, terrified of his own mind.

 

It's a twisted game, mental illness.

 

You're afraid of something you can't escape...yourself.

 

I guess he went a bit overboard this time.

 

A little too much drinking.

 

A little too much pain.

 

He wouldn't come home. He wouldn't come _home._

 

I looked for him, hours on end, but he wouldn't come home.

 

My mind was splitting in two, anger and reason, and I swear to you I couldn't control it.

 

Please believe me when I say I'm sorry.

 

I was no better than you. No better than them.

 

I never knew

.

 

And now, it's unbearable for me to come home each day, and not hear his voice.

 

Not see his face.

 

Not smell his cologne.

 

Not feel his touch.

 

He was an angel on earth, but angels have to die to get their wings.

 

He doesn't have the terrors anymore though, just in case you were wondering.

 

I figured you knew anyways.

 

Take care, and keep in touch.

 

With Love,

 

Jack.

  
  



	9. Hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He will admire him from afar.
> 
> ***SAD***

Jack runs smooth fingers through his hair, soothing him of his pain and fears.

 

He sighs as he hears the soft snoring in the darkness of the room, and he lays his head back against the wall.

 

In front of him lay his universe, his entire galaxy of stars and constellations, right there in his lap.

 

He steadies his breathing, but he won't fall asleep.

 

Instead, he just sits there and talks, wanting Mark to listen.

 

"You should really cut yer hair, it's growin' out and you look like a fuckin' hippee." He says, and Mark continues to snore below him, oblivious.

 

"How are Bob an' Wade? Still the same? What about Felix and Marzia? Married yet?" He mumbles, running his hands through thick, raven hair again. It feels loose and light between his fingers, like heaven or cotton candy. "I know you've been sneakin' off to the store at night and buyin' stuff. Yer gonna hurt yourself one day, and m'not gonna be happy when you see me, sleepyhead."

 

Mark's breathing hitches, but its just a minor setback, he won't actually wake up. Jack continues to mumble things to him, desperate and hopeless for him to listen.

 

Mark tosses and turns a bit, and it's uncomfortable on Jack's legs, but he bears through the pain. He settles his hand on a bicep and smiles, squeezing lightly.

 

"I wish you could talk to me right now." Jack whispers, leaning his head back on the wall again with a sigh. "I wish you could hear me."

 

Mark sniffles a bit as Jack chuckles at him, then he stretches his arms and stands up, holding Mark bridal style in his arms. "Off to bed you go."

 

He carries him over to the bed, tucking him in lightly as he runs a finger through his dark green hair. Mark only budges a little bit, but he won't wake up.

 

Jack is sure of that.

 

He leans in and kisses his cheek, a small tear falling from his eyes then disappearing into the night.

 

"I wish you knew how much I loved you." He says, then he goes back into the shadows, an enigma of Mark's mind.

 

Always hidden, but always there.


	10. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay! I love you guys.
> 
> Also, sorry for this.
> 
> ***REALLY SAD***

"Is it okay if I take him home, now?" Jack asks, and the nurse nods.

 

"Just be cautious. He isn't as aware of things as he was 2 years ago. He may have a lapse in memory caused by the isolation treatment, and might be a bit delusional."

 

"He may not know who I am?"

 

"That is a possibility. Just, be careful."

 

Jack nods, approaching the table and taking a seat as Mark startles back.

 

"Hey, do you remember me?" He says shyly, and Mark bites his nails then leans in and examines him. His brown eyes roam Jack like a scanner, and Jack waits patiently as his eyes squint.

 

"You're...Jack." He says confidently, and Jack fights back tears as he nods.

 

"Yeah..that's me."

 

"Are you...real?" Mark asks, placing his hand on the table to steady himself as he crouches on the seat. Jack touches his hand, winces as he flinches away but doesn't pull back.

 

"I'm real."

 

"What are you doing here? Did _they_ bring you here too?" He says worriedly, but Jack shakes his head softly.

 

"I'm here to take you home. Do you wanna go home?"

 

"The doctor says I can't go home..." Mark whispers, and Jack raises an eyebrow at that.

 

"Well, yer mom told me to come get you, and they let me in and all, so, looks like you can go home."

 

"My...mom?"

 

"Yeah. Don't you wanna see her?" Mark nods. "Well, we jus' gotta stop you by the doctor's office and get-"

 

"No!" Mark screams, and Jack gives a hateful glare to anyone who turns towards them. "She...she's mean."

 

"Well, how about I go in and get yer papers and I'll bring 'em back out to you. Sound good?" He says, offering a timid hand out to Mark.

 

Mark looks at it frustratedly before hesitating to take it. Finally, he accepts the hand, standing up to follow Jack to the doctor's office.

 

Jack places him outside of it with the promise of coming back, and Mark only stares forward.

 

"Hi, I'm Jack. I'm here to pick up Mark Fischbach?"

 

"Are you related to the patient?" She says, measuring out medication in a syringe and never turning to face Jack.

 

"No, but his mom sent me to come pick him up. She was busy."

 

"Are you on his designated list of visitors?"

 

"Uh..I believe so? Seàn McLoughlin?"

 

He watches as she sets down her syringe, rifling through files until she finds what is presumably Mark's and nodding.

 

"So you are. Well, before he can leave, I need to have him sign a few forms. He is outside I presume."

 

"Yeah but, he doesn't want to come in here so, I figured I could just take them out to him?"

 

"This is private information, Mr. McLoughlin. I can't just go handing it off to anyone. Patient confindentiality and all that. Right?" Jack nods and follows her with his eyes as she stands and heads for the door. "Good. I will come back and retrieve you when we are done." She says, closing the door before he could argue.

 

Not even a few seconds later, he can hear Mark's voice screaming.

 

_No._

 

_Stop._

 

_Please leave me alone._

 

He can hear the doctor arguing back.

 

**Calm down.**

 

**Relax.**

 

**I just need you to settle down.**

 

He tries to yank the door knob open but he can't move his arms. He lifts his head up to see that his door is padded.

 

He looks down at his clothes to see that they're white.

 

He looks over to his chair to see it doesn't exist.

 

And then he falls to the ground, because he's fooled himself again.

 


	11. Beautiful, Unaware.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark would never have it any other way.
> 
>  
> 
> "Before you go, don't turn the big light off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request! This is based on I Like It When You Sleep... By The 1975 :3 I hope you enjoy this total cuteness.
> 
> Big Light=Sunshine.
> 
> Hope this is what you wanted x.x

Mark wakes up slowly, savoring the warm body that's resting on his chest. He blinks a bit, tightening his grip on them, as if they'd disappear if he let them go.

 

They stir quietly in his arms, but they don't wake up, even though they're smiling.

 

He rolls his neck a bit, then looks down at forest green hair, smiling as it makes a mess of his chest.

 

He lifts a steady, calm hand, touching the back of it to their forehead, brushing hair away from their eyes in the process.

 

Their eyes. Oh, how he wished they'd open their eyes.

 

Opening their eyes though, it would ruin the moment.

 

Mark couldn't admire them when they were awake.

 

Not like this.

 

When they were sleep, they were even more beautiful, but so unaware of it.

 

It was almost a pain, to see those vibrant blue eyes, but all the while, a blessing.

 

He presses the back of his hand against their forehead, feeling the unnatural warmth radiating from them.

 

What a shame they were sick.

 

But Mark would catch the flu if it meant being close to them.

 

They mumble in their sleep, turning their head away from Mark, and Mark holds in a laugh.

 

Even asleep, everything they do is beautiful.

 

Everything they do is great.

 

Mark tries to move them, but their solid grip on his arm isn't letting up.

 

"Baby you gotta let go." Mark whispers, but they pretend they don't hear him.

 

He raises an eyebrow at them, wiggling his body again as they tighten their grip and groan.

 

"You gotta let me up, you need medicine."

 

"Noooo s'gross." They mumble into his chest, and this time, he doesn't hold back his laugh.

 

"It's good for you. I'll make you coffee and french toast~" He teases, and slowly a grassy head of hair pops up, shaking back and forth to untangle itself.

 

"Extra syrup?" They say, eyes still shut and words slurring.

 

" _If_ you take your medicine." Mark scolds, and they pout.

 

"Fine, gimme a dose doctor." They say, sitting up to straddle Mark as they rub their eyes. They finally open, shiny and blue, squinting angrily. "Fuckin' shite it's bright. Mark, Why do you have the curtains open?"

 

Mark holds them by their waist on his lap, chuckling as he uses his free arm to sit himself up. "I was watching you sleep."

 

"Fuckin' creep."

 

"You love me." Mark smiles, leaning in for a kiss, but being blocked by a hand.

 

"As much as that may be true, no smootchin' until the jackarooni is better." He says with a scratchy voice, and Mark moves his hand to kiss his cheek.

 

"Fine, fine, guess I have to get up and fix you food, huh?"

 

"Nah, you could jus' stay up here and not bring back that awful medicine."

 

"That's the only reason you want me to stay?" Mark teases, turning them so Jack is laying on his side of the bed.

 

"Yeup. But, since yer forcin' me, begone wit' ya." Jack replies, shooing him away with his ringed hand.

 

"The romance is so strong here." Mark deadpans.

 

"Shut up, you woke me up." Jack argues, groaning when Mark kisses his cheek again.

 

"Who else am I supposed to bother in the morning?"

 

"Chica."

 

"Psh." Is all Mark says before getting out of the warm bed, walking towards the window and preparing to close the curtains.

 

"Nnnngg, noooo."

 

"What? You _just_ scolded me about these."

 

"I was jus' now wakin' up. Leave 'em open." Jack says, muffled by pillows as he rolls onto Mark's side of the bed. "It'll keep me company until you get back."

 

Mark chuckles, leaving them open as he pads back across the room, moving more of Jack's hair away from his sweating forehead. "Whatever you say my dear. Be back shortly. _With medicine._ "

 

"UGH don't remind me." Jack replies, and Mark full on laughs at him.

 

He may have lied earlier.

 

Jack wasn't any different when he was awake.

 

He just as beautiful, and so unaware of it.

 


	12. No Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's no surprise I won't be here tomorrow, I can't believe that I stayed til today." -Daughtry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sad, just kinda unfortunate. I promise the next one will be just simply poetic! Unless i get a request for something sad ;-)

"Was it really that shocking, Mark?" Jack screams, and his voice is like venom, cold, unforgiving.

 

"I..."

 

"You what? You thought 'oh, I'm just going to sleep with some girl in my roommates bed, he won't mind!' is that what you thought?"

 

"Jack, you gotta let me ex-"

 

"Save yer fuckin' excuses. Do you have any _idea_ all the shite I've covered yer arse for? The, the absolute _bullshit_ I've fed people for you? And fer what, you to use my bed as a personal fuck spot?"

 

"Dude I was wasted."

 

"And that makes it better, right? Mark,yer not even supposed to be drinkin'."

 

"What are you, my mother?"

 

"No. I _was_ yer roommate. I _was_ yer best friend." Jack says, more to himself than to Mark. He focuses on packing his things in their boxes, ignoring Mark's presence for the time being.

 

Jack didn't really know what he expected.

 

Mark was a certain type of person.

 

He wanted everything he wanted, and he didn't like to compromise. 

 

He didn't like to let things go.

 

He didn't like to give up.

 

Which is why he'd strung her along.

 

Jack knew Mark never loved her, but that was fine.

 

What wasn't fine, however, was seeing it happen in his own bed.

 

"Oh, so what? We aren't friends anymore?" Mark says, standing tall behind Jack, hovering over him like an other worldly being, a god, an immovable force.

 

Jack hated it.

 

It was demeaning.

 

"No. And I honestly couldn't fuckin' tell you how we still were til today."

 

"This has nothing to do with you, Jack."

 

Jack chuckled at that, closing one box loudly with a tape gun, securing it, this was permanent.

 

He stood up straight, turning to face Mark with the best scowl he could come up with. "We were _friends,_ Mark. She didn't desserve this."

 

"I didn't _do_ anything wrong."

 

"Are you fuckin'-you know what? Fine. Yer right. Yer totally fuckin' right." Jack decides, because he isn't surprised.

 

Honestly, Mark shouldn't be either.

 

Jack knows exactly how Mark works.

 

Vile when he wants. Manipulative when he wants. Charming when he wants. Persuasive, always.

 

He's fallen for those tricks before.

 

He won't do it again.

 

So he strokes his ego.

 

He lets him be.

 

And he tapes another box.

 

A motion.

 

An action.

 

Louder than words.

 

Finality.

 

It's over.

 

"Where are you gonna even stay."

 

"Signe's. Figure out yer own bullshit this time."

 

"When will you be back?"

 

Jack stares at him a good while, because of course he thinks he's won.

 

He thinks Jack is coming back.

 

"Never."

 

"Realistically." Mark says, following him to the door with a sly grin.

 

Jack never turns around, carrying the box out to his car and putting his hand on the driver's door.

 

He takes one glance into Mark's eyes, searching for that compassion that once was.

 

It's gone.

 

And now, so is Jack.

 

Mark shouldn't be surprised.

 

"Bye, Mark. Take care of yerself." Jack smiles, then he gets in his car and drives.

 

He doesn't know how long.

 

He doesn't care.

 

It doesn't surprise him.

 

 

 


	13. Float

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is having nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Felix is a psychologist and he has placed Jack in a sensory deprivation chamber to try to understand why he is having nightmares. Just so we are clear.
> 
> LETS GOOOOO XD

 

 

Jack felt dissociated.

 

 

He didn't feel like he knew who he was.

 

 

He figured that was the point of this.

 

 

He needed to get rid of them.

 

 

The terrors.

 

 

The horrors.

 

 

The nightmares.

 

 

They made him paralyzed, eyes wide open in fear of the unknown, what may or may not lurk beneath his bed or beyond his door in his big, empty house.

 

 

He could vaguely hear Mark's voice in the distance, echoing through his body telling him to relax.

 

 

Everything would be okay.

 

 

Nothing could hurt him now.

 

 

Part of Jack wanted to believe him.

 

 

But most of him was on edge.

 

 

He was seeing things, weird things,things he'd only seen before in his darkest dreams.

 

 

He kept seeing a face.

 

 

The face of a woman with dark eyes and sharp teeth.

 

 

With rough, grey skin and messy hair.

 

 

With cuts, bruises, and bumps all over.

 

 

She was what he feared the most.

 

 

She must be here.

 

 

Mark was in danger.

 

 

Jack didn't want him to get hurt because of him.

 

 

His body began to tingle, he was struggling.

 

 

Mark was telling him to stop.

 

 

To relax.

 

 

To stay calm.

 

 

He couldn't, not when they were in danger.

 

 

He could hear her laughter, the hard stomp of her footsteps.

 

 

Her taunting words, dry and scratchy, sinister.

 

 

Jack fought to gain control of his body, but he felt like something was holding him down.

 

 

Mark was calling him, but something was holding him down.

 

 

He began to swing his arms, pushing himself up and gasping for air.

 

 

He blinked his eyes quickly, kicking and splashing water as he screamed.

 

 

"Mark! She's here. She's here!" He fought and kicked, searching around the room as Mark holds him still.

 

 

"Jack, Jack, I'm fine, see? You were dreaming, okay? Jack, look at me." He heard Mark say distantly, finally catching his breath and looking at him with scared blue eyes.

 

 

"SHE'S HERE!" Jack insists, nearly falling back down as he tries to escape the chamber. "We-we need to get out."

 

 

" _Jack..._ we are safe. We are in Felix's office, right. You remember Felix?"

 

 

"Felix?" Jack says, confused and dazed as he finally tries to stand on his own two feet.

 

 

"Yeah, Felix, our best friend. Felix!" Mark calls, and Jack's body is on guard when he hears footsteps. Soon he sees a guy with white hair frowning at him.

 

 

His mind makes the connection, and he's pulled back into a familiar reality.

 

 

"Jack, are you okay man?"

 

 

"I..." He begins, blinking and shaking his head as he realizes it's just a dream. "Yeah. Yeah m'fine."

 

 

"Are you sure?" Mark insists, and Jack coughs up a bit of water before nodding.

 

 

"Yeah. Sorry, it's hard for me to come back to reality sometimes."

 

 

"That's understandable. Are you ready to come to my office and talk about it?" Felix asks, and Jack nods as he and Mark help him walk towards the big door, taking one final look to see all that he heard was in his head.

 


	14. French Toast Sticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wants breakfast for supper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just overly cute because the next chapter is a fucking travesty ENJOY MY PRETTIES

Jack stretches and yawns, feeling an unfamiliar touch on forehead as he rubs his eye.

 

He reaches up, feeling paper, and snatches it off, cursing internally at the loss of hair.

 

_In the office._

 

_Decide what you want for dinner :)_

 

_-Mark_

 

Jack rolled his eyes as he realized Mark could have just texted him, but the gesture he went for was sweet. He picked up his phone nonetheless, seeing that it was about 4pm right now and he should probably wake up or he won't be able to sleep through the night.

 

What _did_ he want for dinner?

 

He thought about it thoroughly as he slipped on his flamingo shorts and padded towards the office door, not wanting to disturb his roommate, but curious as to what kind of project he was working on.

 

Maybe...spaghetti?

 

No.

 

Tacos?

 

No.

 

How about...breakfast?

 

Yeah.

 

Breakfast sounded great at dinner!

 

He knocked on the office door quietly, twisting the knob slowly to let himself in. It seemed like Mark was working on something important, so he sat there silently and watched him work.

 

"Did you get my note?" Mark grinned, and Jack chuckled, walking up to Mark and squatting next to him.

 

"I did, why did you put it on my forehead?"

 

"I wanted to make sure you saw it." Mark says, running his hand through fluffy hair.

 

"Point taken. I decided what I wanted, though." Jack replies, and Mark turns to him with a questioning look. "French toast sticks and _loads_ of syrup. Oh, and coffee!"

 

"Did you think I would prevent you from getting as much syrup as you wanted?"

 

"I didn't know if we were out." He winces, standing back up in pain.

 

"Of course not, I buy it in bulk now because you use an entire bottle on one pancake."

 

"One drip of syrup isn't enough!" He exclaims, and Mark laughs, closing down his engineering program on his computer and standing.

 

"French toast sticks and coffee it is. Sausage or bacon?"

 

"Bacon! The meat of bosses!"

 

"Okay, okay, Bacon. I got it." Mark smirks. "Did you finish your sound take for class?"

 

"Yeah! Gotta turn it in tomorrow. How's your assignment going?"

 

"Pretty good," Mark remarks, stepping down the hallway to the fridge. "Pretty hard."

 

"Hm, I'm sure you'll get it." Jack smiles, and Mark smiles right back.

 

"You know, yer like french toast sticks."

 

"What? How am I like a breakfast food?"

 

"Yer really sweet, and sometimes you get really sticky." Jack wiggles his eyebrows and Mark pouts.

 

"That was one time! You didn't knock!"

 

"Regardless, you remind me of french toast sticks."

 

"Thank you...I guess?" Mark smiles, and Jack smiles right back, taking a bite out of his much beloved French Toast Sticks.

 


	15. One Kiss, Two Kiss, Red Fisch, Blue Fisch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is in some trouble. 
> 
> ***Kinda Sad? Morals and shit.***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter. 
> 
> Its so shit.
> 
> And rushed.
> 
> And im sorry.

He knew Jack had fucked up.

 

He could see the blood everywhere. Slid across the ground where he'd dragged the bodies around, mangling them and mincing them.

 

He knew they didn't have much time, but he couldn't help much if Jack had him by his throat against the wall.

 

He probably shouldn't have snuck in.

 

Jack got a rush from the kill...a strong emotion Mark could never understand.

 

It made him violent.

 

It made him angry.

 

It made him ravage Mark in ways normal Jack wouldn't.

 

"The cops will be here soon, we need-" Mark gasps as Jack continues to choke him, he figured his skin had to be purple by now. "We need to leave."

 

"Awww I know, but m'havin' so much fun!" Jack says, finally letting Mark back onto the ground, coughing and gagging as his palms drop down. "Now c'mon, lets dispose of the bodies, shall we?"

 

Mark stands up and nods, running a nervous hand through his hair.

 

He should be used to it by now.

 

Jack has never been caught. He probably never will be.

 

He really hoped that was true.

 

He watched as Jack dragged the bodies into the living room quickly, then disappeared to go grab lighter supplies to finish the job.

 

All too quickly, he could hear the sirens.

 

He could hear Jack's rapid heartbeat as the door bangs and his head spins.

 

"You stay away from that!" Jack demands, pulling Mark behind him with bloody hands just as the door bursts open.

 

A moment of truth and denial.

 

Jack knows he's lost.

 

Mark won't accept it.

 

"HANDS IN THE AIR, MCLOUGHLIN."

 

"NO!" Mark demands, going to fight them.

 

He would do anything for Jack.

 

"Sssh, calm down baby. Calm." Jack says, and the cops move into him. "HEY!" He yells, struggling as they grab at his arms as he stares into Mark's eyes.

 

"Please...I NEED HIM!" Mark yells, grabbing at Jack as a cop comes and restrains him.

 

"Can I just...please let me say goodbye? I won't misbehave." Jack sighs, still staring at his beautiful partner. "He's more important than anything else."

 

The cops all decide, letting them go but holding their aim on his. Jack chuckles, stepping towards a tearing up Mark.

 

"Don't cry, baby...I'll be back okay?" Jack says, running his thumb across a soft,tan cheek.

 

"When?"

 

"Eventually. I love you." He smiles, kissing Mark lightly before his arms are yanked behind him, restrained by the metal of handcuffs.

 

"NO!" Mark screams, but he's restrained as he fights, and Jack blows him one last kiss before he disappears through the door.

 

Mark has no idea what to do now.

 

It's all hopeless.

 


	16. Suffocate Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're always this close. 
> 
> So close it's hard to breathe.
> 
> Request: "Poetically write smut? :P"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorrryyy, had to wait on a request to update this xD but here we go! Poetic smut :)

It's like they're trapped.

 

Jack can't breathe.

 

He doesn't mind at all.

 

He can feel lips against his skin, he can hear the soft kisses and the moans that accompany them.

 

He gasps as he feels a heavy weight force down against him, over and over as his eyes try not to roll out of his head.

 

He revels in the echo of his name in the silence, obliging when he feels the hot fabric that was clinging to his body being removed.

 

"You're amazing..." He hears his lover say, and he looks into those smooth, milk chocolate eyes with a smile.

 

Mark blushes under his half lidded gaze, and Jack pulls him into a furious kiss to gain leverage.

 

He uses all of his strength to force Mark on his back, smiling above him.

 

He tugs on the hem of his shirt, and Mark raises his arms eagerly.

 

He maps out scars and moles with kisses, closing his eyes for concentration.

 

"Yer gorgeous..." He says, but Mark knows that.

 

He doesn't have to say it.

 

But he will.

 

He can hear the gasping above him as he wiggles down Mark's boxers, tongue already hanging out in anticipation.

 

Jack meets his lips again, rolling his hips in time with them, and Mark is a writhing mess.

 

They make slow work of the foreplay and preparation, they are not in a rush.

 

Mark is back on top of Jack, fingers going in and out as Jack curses in Irish below him.

 

He smiles down at his husband, thanking the heavens that their kids are gone for the weekend.

 

He runs his hands up and down the expanse of his chest and stomach, pulling his fingers out and kissing his leg.

 

"Ready?" Mark says, and Jack seems thrown off by his voice.

 

He nods, and Mark wastes no time.

 

They move together as one, slow and steady, taking in every breath and moan, every beg and plea, every sweet nothing.

 

It doesn't take them long to get close, the trust and love flowing through them pushing them along more than anything else.

 

Mark feels like he could suffocate with Jack on top of him, but he doesn't care.

 

He would die happy here, with the love of his life.

 

He grips his hips and pulls him down slowly, watching the sheer pleasure in his face as he releases.

 

Not long after, Mark is cumming inside of him, and Jack is collapsing onto him.

 

Mark makes a face, but doesn't move him.

 

He runs his hands through his hair, kissing his forehead.

 

"I love you."

 

And he's not surprised that he hears light snoring.

 

Which always means I love you too.


	17. Rhythm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark comforts Jack through a thunderstorm.

Mark can hear the knocking on his door.

 

He rises from his bed with a grunt, opening the door to see blue eyes staring at him.

 

Clap.

 

The thunder strikes and he sees Jack jump slightly.

 

He knows the problem then.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

"I-uh...I was wonderin' if I could stay in here fer a bit? Jus'...jus' until the storm passes?"

 

"Why, does my big, hairy Irishman have a fear of storms?" Mark teases, trying to put Jack's nerves at ease.

 

Jack chuckles, but his smile falters, and Mark nods,moving out of the way.

 

"Thanks. I promise I'll leave as soon as it's over."

 

"No rush." Mark smiles, and Jack gives him a weird look as he takes a seat on the bed.

 

"So, did I wake you?"

 

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. Get comfy." Mark says as he takes a seat next to Jack on the bed.

 

Clap.

 

And Jack startles.

 

"What made you afraid of storms?"

 

Jack swings his head to the side quickly, sighing as he turns on one of the sidetable lamps. "I don't like the dark as it is. Thunder I guess just makes it worse."

 

Mark sighs, pulling his friend into a comforting hug, much to his confusion. "When I was younger, my mom used to sing to me in Korean to calm me down. Now, when there's a storm, all I do is think of her singing, and it puts me right to sleep."

 

"Hm." Jack muses, and he sighs and closes his eyes as he hears Mark begin to hum to him. A calming tune to offset the harsh notes of a storm.

 

Clap.

 

Hum.

 

Clap.

 

Hum.

 

Hum.

 

Hum.

 

Hum.

 

Jack feels himself floating between dreams and reality, as Mark's calming humming turns into quiet singing.

 

There are no words, just noises, and Mark's humming.

 

Jack felt himself falling sleep, snuggling into Mark to feel safe.

 

"Go to sleep Jack. I'm not going anywhere."

 

"Urmghf." Was the dignified noise Jack made, burying his face in Mark's chest as Mark lays them down carefully, listening to his heartbeat.

 

Mark hums again,his own eyes heavy as he pulls Jack close into a cuddle.

 

The rain patters on the windows and the humming fades.

 

Clap.

 

Snore.

 

Snore.

 

Snore.

 


	18. Sober Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: "Songfic based on Sober Up by AJR? You seem to like them alot :P"
> 
> "Won't you help me sober up? Growing up, it made me numb."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 more fics and then this will be over! Sad to see it go but, we are making way for bigger, better, platonic fics! XD
> 
> This is based on the events in my fic Unfamiliar Territory.
> 
> Because we all know I can't think of original content :)))))

Mark sat in front of the computer desk, fingers roaming over the keys as he makes a choice.

He could call him.

He could see him after 4 years.

He's in town, he'd heard.

He could reconcile.

He could...apologize.

He won't do that. He might do everything else, but he won't do that.

He had no idea what he'd done.

He had no idea what to apologize for.

So he opened Skype, his cursor hovering over a familiar name for a bit until he finally clocks on it, letting the ringtone fill the silence in his home.

A face filled the screen, and god he looked different.

His face was more defined, more stubble covering up his chin as his turquoise faded hair hangs over his thick brow.

"...hey." He says, and Mark has no idea how to respond.

'Hey' would be appropriate, but it wouldn't progress anything.

"How have you been?"

"Fine. I've been fine. Did you call fer a particular reason, or..."

"No, I just...I heard you were in town and I really wanted to see you. It's been awhile."

"You really wanna see  _me_? Are you sure you called the right person?"

Mark breathes out, a laugh and a scoff all the same, and nods. "Yes I do. We haven't spoken in ages, and I guess that's my fault mostly."

" _Mostly._ But I'm still at fault,  _partly._ "

Mark smiles. "Are you busy right now?"

"Nope. We're just relaxing a bit."

"We?"

"My girlfriend and I."

"Oh. Why didn't you ignore my call?"

"I could have." Jack sighs, then he shrugs. "But I didn't. What did you have in mind?"

"McAvee's is still open."

"The little bakery place?" Mark nods. "That sounds like alot of fun."

"Should I pick you up?"

The silence stings, but Jack gives him a soft smile to ease it. "How about I meet you there?"

Mark shrugs, smiling depreciatively. "Sure. That works. See you in 20?"

"Yeah," Jack smiles, fixing his hair. "In 20."

As they hang up, a feeling washes over Mark, and he can't help but think that sounds like years.


	19. I'm Trying, I'm Trying To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wishes everyone could just get along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is lyrics from Guns For Hands by twentyonepilots. Hope you enjoy the return of angst :))))

"It's not...really a problem." 

"Are you sure? Because it looks pretty problematic to me." Jack exhales, but Mark only rolls his eyes.

"You're over exaggerating the situation."

"Oh? Really? Well please, oh mighty one, inform me on how  _not_ to be dramatic?"

Mark runs a steady hand through his hair, not stressed at all as he smiles. "Stop talking about it, maybe?"

Jack throws his hands in the air, gasping is disbelief. "Yer really that ignorant, aren't you?"

"Me, ignorant? Jack, you're blowing everything out of proportion."

"Right." Jack muses, taking a seat on the folding chair outside of the hospital room. "Blowin' everythin' out of proportion. What would be me  _under exaggeratin'_ then?"

"You know what I meant. The doctors said he's going to be fine. We were just kidding around anyways." Mark argues, his hands now pointed cussedly at Jack. " _You're_ the only one still worried about it."

"Oh, I'm sure that Felix isn't worried about it at all. I mean, I personally wouldn't be worried about being in the hospital because one of my 'friends' had me eat something he knew would make me sick. The fact that I might die?  _Even better._ " Jack says sarcastically, using his free hand to knock Mark's away from his face.

"God, you can be really pessimistic sometimes."

"Pessi- _Mark._ I don't understand what part of "you almost killed Felix" you don't understand."

"The part where  _I_ almost killed him. Because of the tiny little detail that I  _didn't_."

"He ate the berries by himself, then?"

"No, but-"

"Mm. Why don't you jus' go home then? If you don't wanna hear my dramatic, over exaggeratin' self then go  _away._ " Jack spits, and Mark twitches an eye.

"You aren't in charge of me, Jack. This isn't high school. This isn't your little friend group anymore. God, you stay in this mindset that we never grew up. That we never grew apart. That we never got our own lives, got married, had  _kids_ with other people. Me, you, and Felix? We  _aren't_ best friends anymore. What part of  _that_ don't  _you_ understand?" Mark whispers, watching as a nurse walks by and gives them a weird look.

"I think the part I don't understand most," Jack mumbles, and wouldn't you know it? He's crying. "Is the part where we grew apart."

"Oh don't give me that. You two decided to move to England, that wasn't my choice. I knew this night was a bad idea. I mean, why did you even  _invite_ me here, huh? So you had someone to blame in case shit went wrong? Is that the only reason I'm here?"

 **"I INVITED YOU BECAUSE I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS, MARK!"** Jack screams, and Mark only laughs and shakes his head. He holds up his hands again, backing away from Jack.

" _You_ need to grow the fuck up. And maybe, just maybe, learn when you're  _not_ wanted. I sure did."

"We didn't move to spite you, Mark! It was the best choice for the both of us."

"So, this has nothing to do with your little fling in college? Did you think I didn't know? You kept  _that_ from me to. You two kept  _alot_ of things from me."

"There were no secrets."

"Sure there weren't Jack," Mark puts his hands down, defeated and chuckling in despair. "Sure there weren't. I'll have my flight changed to leave as soon as possible. And next time," Mark says, grabbing his keys from the chair he was sitting in and staring into Jack's eyes. "Make sure you don't drag me here just to argue. Skype will be fine. That's how we broke up, right?"

"I didn't break up with you over-"

"Oh! That's right. You  _texted_ me. You're a hypocrite, Jack. You're on all this self righteous bullshit, but really, you're a fraud." Mark turns to see the doctor standing behind him.

"Your friend should be awake enough to take visitors, if you'd like." He says, and Mark smiles and points at Jack one last time.

"There's his friend right there, doc. Thanks for including me, though."

"Mark-" Jack starts, but Mark is already shaking his head and walking away. He stands up and stretches, entering the room to see Felix blinking around the room, finally glancing at Jack and smiling.

"Hey bro, where's Mark?"

"He's, um...I don't think he's comin' in." 

Felix immediately understands, nodding silently and sighing. "Tell him I'm sorry next time. I never got to tell him I'm sorry."

Jack just looks at his hands in disregard for anything else and sighs. "Me either. He just won't listen."

 


	20. All Over You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark is having some...weird feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swear this was supposed to be smut but it became fluff? 
> 
> I'm really sorry.
> 
> It's kinda kinky.
> 
> Uhhhhhh,,,,,,,,,, Im giving away kisses if you guys want em :*

Mark never considered it.

 

Not for a second.

 

Not for a second did he consider he was gay.

 

Well, he probably wasn't gay.

 

The only proof he had was...well...Jack.

 

It was weird, really.

 

To kiss your best friend and like it.

 

To kiss your best friend more than once is almost heinous.

 

A crime that Mark would gladly commit.

 

Maybe Jack knew he was gay, and that was why he kissed him.

 

Maybe Jack knew alot of things he didn't know about himself.

 

Mark guessed he'd find out sooner than later.

 

Because he was still kissing Jack, and he was still liking it.

 

Dare he say...loving it?

 

_Focus, Mark. Don't think about Mcdonald's, don't think about Mcdonald's, don't think about-_

 

"Mark? You still with me?" He hears an Irish accent say, and he bites his lip hard as he looks down at Jack.

 

Down meaning...Jack is below him.

 

Meaning...he's on top of Jack.

 

Huh.

 

"Y-yeah, I'm fine I just...got a little caught up in my head is all." He smiles, and Jack kisses him again, and dammit he loves it.

 

He kisses him back, if only for a moment, then stares into those trusting blue ocean eyes again.

 

Did he ever like Owl City?

 

_Mark. You're on top of your best friend, kissing him. Focus._

 

"Mark? We can stop if you-"

 

"NO!" He screams, and Jack's eyes blow wide as he smiles at Mark's excitement, smirking as Mark clears his throat. "I mean, no really, I'm fine."

 

Spill Canvas?

 

_Stop stalling. Kiss him._

 

And Mark does, and he loves it.

 

He kisses his lips.

 

Then he gets bold and kisses his cheek.

 

Then his neck.

 

And maybe his collarbone a few times.

 

And wouldn't you know it? He was kissing his chest.

 

It was...different. There was alot more...hair and alot less...cushion?

 

Jack wasn't a couch.

 

Wait.

 

What?

 

_For the love of god, just fuck him already._

 

"How far do you want this to go?" Jack says after awhile of quiet moans, and Mark finds that he misses them.

 

"All the way?"

 

And wouldn't you know it? Jack  _laughs._ And it takes him a second.

 

Maybe a minute.

 

Then he realizes...Jack is nervous too.

 

And Jack is laughing at a reference to his own song.

 

That Mark never made.

 

And that makes Mark realize he probably  _is_ gay.

 

But only gay for Jack?

 

Mark sighs, shutting Jack up with another kiss to the lips, squealing a bit when he feels his back hit the sheets. He wants to protest, but Jack rolls his hips down and all his words fail.

 

_Don't you dare make a Shrek The Musical reference._

 

Mark chuckles at his own mind, but Jack rolls his hips again, and now Jack is all he can think about.

 

Jack and the feelings he provides to Mark.

 

Jack and his fading blue hair and his wide, grabbable hips, and his plump, kissable lips.

 

Jack, the perfect guy, that Mark was about to absolutely destroy.

 

His best friend kissed him again, and he loved it.

 

And that was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> You're always welcome to send in requests for this fic!!! You can comment below with a prompt and I'll definitely do it within reason :)


End file.
